


A Greater Man

by orphan_account



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2821727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert is a test and Marco fails miserably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Greater Man

**Author's Note:**

> I found this, completed and all, in a document on my computer. I supposed I better post if before I forget it again.

Robert is not born to be in control of his life, somewhere east of the Oder river and behind the Iron Curtain, so maybe that's why he acts like he doesn't have a choice. _If I could stay, I would_ , he thinks but does not say. _If I had it my way, I'd hold onto you forever - but I don't, I never have and never will, and leaving - you, this city, everything - is something I have to do_. 

But that's just Robert. Robert with his profound beliefs that happiness can be attained, goodness will be rewarded and those who love will always be loved in return. Marco wants to laugh at Robert, and he does sometimes, but never to his face. 

"Then why don't you love me?" Marco asks, kissing Robert in the dark, up against a wall. 

Robert is gentle with his rejection. He takes a seat on the edge of Marco's bed and clasps his hands over his knees. His feet shift on the carpet and Marco does not join him. "I won't sleep with you, Marco, but that doesn't mean I don't love you." 

Because that's also Robert; loyal, painfully so, to his vows, his wife, his religion. Sometimes the gold of Robert's wedding band stings his skin when his hands touch him. Sometimes the sight of Anna makes guilt rise within in him like bile, making him feel sick. _Be happy_ , he had said before their wedding, though nothing could quite ever be enough to communicate the odd sense of relief that still presses down awkwardly on his lungs even to this day. 

"This," Marco says, motioning between them, "it's still cheating. And you're still leaving." 

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty about this?" he asks, softness of his voice concealing the pain of his surprise. The absence of light hides the hurt in Robert's eyes, which he is thankful for, for he is still a man for all that Marco believes him to be a coward.

"I'm trying to make you feel guilty about leaving, goddamn it! Goddamn you," he adds, quieter, at the end for good measure. He wants to punch Robert in that moment, but it passes. He can only imagine Robert saying something high and mighty to him anyway, _I'm not worth the bruised knuckles, Marco_ , or something as equally as self-deprecatingly pretentious. 

It gives him some piece of mind that, as wholly sincere as Robert can be, he has already taken the moral high ground from beneath his feet years ago. It's some sort of personal, parting victory that Marco can hold onto even when Robert is gone. 

Eventually, when his pride wavers, Marco takes a seat beside Robert and they sit in silence because, in truth, they've just run out of things to say. 

(In the end, when Robert leaves, Marco thinks it's all been a part of some sort of test. That Robert came to teach about something, something about love, perhaps. A love of something that is the only thing you could ever want without ever being able to fully have. But you get a slice of it, and you must cherish it and never take more of it because it'll ruin you if you do.

_Too late_ , Marco thinks.) 


End file.
